


play raw, no script

by nfwmb (earthshaker)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Comeplay, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, POV Alternating, Polyamory Negotiations, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Shibari, Some Plot, Sort Of, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 13:37:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17561432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earthshaker/pseuds/nfwmb
Summary: Minghao cheating on Seokmin with his ex islaston Seokmin’s list of worries. Hypothetically,Seokminwould sooner be caught making out with Junhui than Minghao is. Not that he’s given any thought to it, that is. Making out with Junhui. But he’s not opposed to it either, he likes his men pretty and Junhui is very, very pretty.





	play raw, no script

**Author's Note:**

> have you all seen [these](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/Dx3htCxVAAAHSBP.jpg) [pictures](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/Dx3htCuUUAA03Ed.jpg)? i think [these](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/Dx3htCxVAAAHSBP.jpg) [pictures](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/Dx3htCuUUAA03Ed.jpg) are wonderful. hello i am back with more inane bullshit that only _i_ like. yes i keep abusing the porn with feelings tag. the working title for this fic was ihaverabies.docx and then it became fuck with you the long way.docx because apparently i like collecting scorpio men like they're baseball trading cards. title from freedom by kris wu ft jhene aiko.

It’s not surprising to come home and find Junhui spread out on their carpet, fixated on whatever game it is that he’s recently picked up. In fact, it would be _more_ surprising to _not_ have Junhui there. Most people would care about having their boyfriend’s ex treat their living room like it’s their own house but not Seokmin. Seokmin likes having Junhui around in a way he can’t explain — all he knows is that Minghao is just a shade happier whenever Junhui is home, and Seokmin likes seeing Minghao happy.

 

Soonyoung’s eyebrows had disappeared into his hairline when he found out Junhui had spare keys to the apartment.

 

“But he’s Minghao’s ex?” Soonyoung had asked tentatively.

 

“So?” Seokmin shrugs, swiping some of the fries from Soonyoung’s plate even as he yelps in protest.

 

“I don’t know, aren’t you worried Minghao’s still in love with him or something? They dated, for like, forever, right?”

 

Seokmin has to resist the urge to roll his eyes; clearly Soonyoung’s never met Minghao. Correction: Soonyoung’s never _dated_ Minghao. Minghao cheating on Seokmin with his ex is _last_ on Seokmin’s list of worries. Hypothetically, _Seokmin_ would sooner be caught making out with Junhui than Minghao is. Not that he’s given any thought to it, that is. Making out with Junhui. But he’s not opposed to it either, he likes his men pretty and Junhui is very, very pretty.

 

“Nope,” Seokmin says. “Minghao loves me.”

 

The intrinsic truth is undeniable. The moon reflects light from the sun. Minghao loves Seokmin and doesn’t leave any room for Seokmin to doubt it, not for a day, not for a second. Has _never_ left room for him to doubt it. It should be scary, how head-over-heels in love he is with Minghao at 25, but it’s alright.

 

“Hi hyung,” Seokmin says, arranging the shoes by the door before dropping down cross legged next to Junhui, immediately petting Junhui’s head.

 

There was a time when Seokmin wasn’t quite sure how to approach Junhui. Before Junhui was Minghao’s ex, he was Minghao’s best friend. _Is_ Minghao’s best friend. He was never an easy person to read; a completely different person under his outward persona. Time, however, strengthens all bonds. And while Seokmin isn’t on Minghao levels of reading Junhui, because no one is on that, he does a fair job at it. Jeonghan tells him he’s stupid for entertaining Minghao’s desire to keep Junhui around, but sometimes, Seokmin wants him around more than Minghao does.

 

Junhui nudges his head into Seokmin’s hand and he laughs, going along with the silent request to keep going. He keeps gaming, tongue sticking out of his mouth as his thumbs tap frantically at the screen until he dies, finally looking at Seokmin.

 

“Seokmin-ah,” he hums, sounding pleased. His eyes widen, tilting his head to the side. “You’re home early.”

 

“Yeah, my last class was canceled.”

 

Junhui sits up abruptly, Seokmin’s hand falling away, grinning mischievously. “Good. We’re going to learn a group game.”

 

“Ge, I found it,” Minghao calls out, storming out of their room holding onto a bundle of… rope?

 

Minghao blanches when he realizes Seokmin is there, hiding his hands behind his back even as Seokmin holds his arms out. He frowns when Minghao doesn’t swoop in for a customary kiss; it’s not like he holds back on his affections in front of Junhui. Their friends  can keep thinking they’re weird for how they treat Junhui, but he’s harmless. Like a cat. Which means technically he can cause just as much damage if he wants to.

 

“You’re home early,” Minghao says, sounding tense, the smallest of frowns creasing his forehead.

 

Seokmin pouts. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

 

“I am,” Junhui says, giggling, hooking his chin over Seokmin’s shoulder, Seokmin leaning back against Junhui.

 

“I should break up with you and date Junnie-hyung instead,” Seokmin jokes.

 

“It’ll be full circle.” Junhui’s voice rumbles against Seokmin’s skin.

 

Something crosses Minghao’s face, so quick Seokmin’s not even sure what it is. “If that’s what you want,” Minghao says tersely.

 

“What I _want_ is for you to put whatever you’re holding down and come kiss me,” Seokmin says.

 

Minghao sighs, setting the length of rope down and getting on his knees, Junhui peeling away from Seokmin as he leans forward, sighing out when Minghao kisses him gently.

 

“Hi,” he breathes out, left hand coming up to brush through Minghao’s hair. It’s getting long again.

 

“Hi,” Minghao mumbles.

 

“I want a kiss too,” Junhui complains.

 

Seokmin’s not sure what takes over him. It’s more like an involuntary response, stimuli received, synapses firing, Seokmin turning around to smack a wet kiss to Junhui’s cheek, patting it after.

 

“There,” Seokmin grins.

 

Both Minghao and Junhui staring at him makes him flush, ducking his head.

 

“What,” he whines out. “Hyung wanted a kiss.”

 

Junhui’s the first to break, giggling softly. “I did. Thanks, Seokmin-ah.”

 

Seokmin hums, leaning forward to kiss Minghao’s cheeks. “Don’t worry, I have plenty kisses for you still.”

 

Minghao rolls his eyes, leaning his weight on his calves. “I hope so.”

 

“Always.” Seokmin sits up to close the space between them, kissing Minghao again.

 

“Ewwww,” Junhui drawls out.

 

Seokmin pulls away with a laugh, a glance at Junhui’s face shows that he’s smiling fondly at Minghao. At _them._

 

“The door is right there,” Minghao threatens.

 

“You won’t kick me out,” Junhui sticks his tongue out.

 

Between them, Seokmin dissolves into laughter. This is good, familiar. He’s not sure when his evenings at home turned into Minghao _and_ Junhui, but he’s not complaining. Not unless Junhui’s cooking, at least, and both Seokmin and Minghao are blinking away their tears from how spicy the food is even if it’s good. Junhui is a constant presence at their apartment, short of actually moving into their living room. He still goes home to sleep, but Seokmin misses him when he does.

 

“What’s the rope for anyway?” Seokmin asks.

 

Minghao stiffens up. He was hoping Seokmin would forget all about it, but Seokmin’s always been nosy.

 

“Photography project,” Minghao says.

 

“Group bonding,” Junhui says at the same time.

 

Seokmin glances at the both of them, raising his brows. Minghao glares at Junhui but Junhui, the little shit, is just grinning. If he had a tail, it would be swishing about lazily. As it stands, Junhui shrugs.

 

“Seokmin-ah, can I tie you up?” Junhui asks.

 

Minghao chokes on his saliva. “Ge,” he says warningly.

 

Junhui hums. “I’m asking him for consent.”

 

Seokmin laughs, and Minghao can see he’s still confused. And then he opens his mouth, cursed words falling out.

 

“If Minghao needs to tie me up for his project, sure,” Seokmin grins, pulling off his cardigan, left in a thin white T-shirt. Minghao’s pretty sure it belongs to him, but there was no taking back the overlap between their closets anymore.

 

“See?” Junhui gets up to get the rope, settling behind Seokmin on the carpet. “I told you it wouldn’t be an issue.”

 

That’s directed towards Minghao, and he feels a mix of feelings at the sight of Seokmin smiling at him, Junhui grinning behind him, waving the rope about. Junhui was supposed to teach Minghao the basics of shibari and then Minghao was going to take him out for hotpot. It was supposed to be a controlled activity, Seokmin in class. None of this chaos, or his heart running wild in his chest.

 

“On your knees Seokminnie,” Junhui guides Seokmin into the position, his voice awfully tender. “Lemme know if you lose feeling in your arm, or if you’re uncomfortable at any point. That clear?”

 

Seokmin nods.

 

Minghao feels like his heart’s in his fucking throat because Junhui’s generous, has a kind streak a mile wide, the empathy to go along with it. Watching him apply that to Minghao’s _boyfriend_ makes him feel ridiculously close to turning to ash. Has something simmering in his gut, something he feels guilty for wanting. It’s not fair to Seokmin to push him into the center of this without warning.

 

“Good,” Junhui says, squeezing Seokmin’s biceps, promptly pulling his arms behind his back.

 

Junhui’s voice washes over the both of them, carefully explaining the steps as he loops the rope around Seokmin’s arms, constantly asking if Seokmin’s okay, if anything hurts. Minghao’s mouth is dry — a mix of arousal from watching the rope criss cross over Seokmin’s arms and the way Junhui keeps reassuring Seokmin. Minghao tries to pay attention to what Junhui’s doing, knowing he has to repeat this with Seokmin later but it’s hard. Junhui’s voice can be so very soothing, and the cadence of it right now is lulling Minghao into some kind of trance.

 

His awareness is tied to Junhui’s voice and watching Seokmin’s face for signs of discomfort, his hands fluttering uselessly by his side. Seokmin seems comfortable until Junhui tugs at the rope too tight, a moan escaping Seokmin’s lips. Minghao freezes. He was so intent on making sure Seokmin isn't uncomfortable that he’s missed all the other signs. Seokmin’s _very_ comfortable and more than anything else, horny, if the blush spreading from his face to his chest is any indication. That, and the tent in his jeans. Minghao’s mouth is dry.

 

“Sorry,” Seokmin squeaks out, blush deepening. If Minghao got close enough, he could probably feel the heat coming off him.

 

“Is this okay?” Minghao asks, hands settling around Seokmin’s throat.

 

Seokmin hisses out a breath through gritted teeth, leaning forward to press his forehead against Minghao’s. He’s been fucking _conditioned_ into getting hard whenever Minghao puts his hands on his throat. The same applies to Minghao too, probably, but he’s been horny since Junhui pulled his hands behind his back.

 

Minghao’s hands on his throat combined with the rough rope looping around Seokmin’s forearms has him in a different headspace. It feels right, and Seokmin wonders why they waited so long to experiment with rope. It’s the first time he’s struggling to form the words, to just _ask_ Minghao for what he wants. Minghao’s thumbs are rubbing circles into Seokmin’s neck and Seokmin can feel the huff of Junhui’s breath against his neck.

 

“Can you take this off?” Seokmin asks, voice cracking around the words.

 

He can feel Junhui begin to work at the knots, continually praising Seokmin for how good he was, the praise just making Seokmin’s head feel light. Minghao’s frowning, rubbing his hands along Seokmin’s shoulders. Seokmin tries to muster some sort of embarrassment over popping a boner in front of their friend but he can’t, finds himself so aroused he’s lightheaded with it. Might die if he doesn’t touch Minghao soon, heart beating like it’s going to tapdance it’s way out of Seokmin’s chest.

 

The moment the rope slides off Seokmin’s forearms, he pulls Minghao to him, kissing him breathless. “Need you to fuck me. Please, Minghao, need it so bad.”

 

Minghao’s ears are bright red but there’s a smile trying to break free, even as he looks over Seokmin’s shoulder at Junhui, both embarrassed and pleased.

 

“I can leave,” Junhui says. He sounds amused.

 

In front of him, Minghao is smiling apologetically.

 

“No,” Seokmin says. “Let Junnie stay. And watch. Please?”

 

They’ve talked about this before, once or twice. How Seokmin wants someone to watch. He’s not sure why, but the idea of it always had his stomach twisting up in knots and Minghao had said okay. Gone through a list of people with him. A list that included Junhui, Minghao tensing up when Seokmin had suggested it. But he was there.

 

“If that’s what you want,” Minghao says, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes trained on Seokmin’s face makes him feel like he’s being devoured through sight alone.

 

“Jun, is it okay? You don’t have to,” Seokmin says, meeting Junhui’s eyes. He doesn’t have to, but God, does he hope Junhui _wants_ to.

 

“If that’s what you want,” Junhui echoes.

 

And Seokmin wants. Almost surges forward to kiss Junhui before remembering he’s just there to watch. Kisses Minghao instead, hot and desperate, whining when Minghao’s tongue licks into his mouth, his hands tight on Seokmin’s hips. They’ve been dating for three years but this never stops being good, even when it’s familiar, the way Minghao reduces Seokmin down to his desire. Leads him through it.

 

“How do you want to do this, baby?” Minghao asks, kissing down the line of his throat, voice muffled.

 

Seokmin can’t _see_ Junhui and he wants to, _needs_ to.

 

“Hands and knees, fuck,” Seokmin breathes out.

 

“Whatever you want baby,” Minghao rumbles out, biting down on the juncture where Seokmin’s neck meets his shoulder.

 

Seokmin only remembers Junhui’s there when he helps Minghao peel Seokmin’s clothes off, his hands carefully not touching anywhere lower than Seokmin’s chest. It’s driving Seokmin up the wall, just a little bit. He wants Junhui to touch him so bad, bites down on the urge to ask. It passes in a daze, Junhui settling out of Seokmin’s reach when his clothes are off, eyes trained on them.

 

The distance between them is fine until it isn’t, Minghao prepping him with one finger, then two. He doesn’t pass up on the chance to bite his thighs, sucking a hickey into the back of one, the skin feeling hot and tight when he’s done. Seokmin keeps rocking back onto Minghao’s fingers, chasing the feeling.

 

“Hyung,” Seokmin chokes out. “Junnie come here, need you too.”

 

He doesn’t miss the way Junhui looks at Minghao first, Seokmin dropping his head with a whimper when Minghao’s fingers brush against his prostate. Seokmin misses the silent conversation they have but when he looks up, Junhui is shuffling closer. He feels a little less like he’s going to climb out of his skin when he get his hands on Junhui’s thighs, solid from years of dance, a literal and metaphorical anchor.

 

Junhui doesn’t hesitate to run his fingers through Seokmin’s hair, over his face. Minghao’s fingering him with three fingers now, and Seokmin feels like he might just _die_ if Minghao doesn’t fuck him soon. That, or come untouched. The arousal that runs through him, builds in the base of his spine, at the idea of that happening in front of Junhui has him thinking he has a _lot_ of shit to unpack where it concerns the elder. Seokmin’s a big fucking liar, and he’s more sexually attracted to Junhui than he believed he was.

 

“Baby,” he pants out, pushing his head into Junhui’s touch. “Babe, I can take it, please, fuck me.”

 

Minghao grunts in acknowledgement, Seokmin muffling his groan when Minghao pushes in against Junhui’s thigh. Minghao drapes himself across Seokmin’s back, giving him time to adjust, pressing kisses to all the skin he can reach. Seokmin doesn’t miss the way Junhui’s gaze flickers to Minghao’s face. This isn’t about Seokmin, no, this is about _them._ All three of them.

 

“Move,” Seokmin demands, Minghao chuckling, the sound vibrating against his skin. Junhui’s laughing too.

 

“Demanding,” Minghao says, even as he pulls out and snaps his hips forwards, grinding their hips together.

 

Seokmin’s eyes fall shut even as his hands scramble to grip onto Junhui’s sweatpants. The thing about dating Minghao for as long as he has is that he knows Seokmin in and out, even when it comes to sex. Seokmin’s reduced to whimpers and moans as Minghao picks up the past, his cock aching between his legs. Surprisingly, it’s Junhui who pulls his hand away when he tries to reach down to touch himself, Seokmin blinking blearily up at him.

 

“You look so pretty, Seokminnie. Minghao’s fucking you so good, right?”

 

“Hyung,” Seokmin whines out, his head pillowed on Junhui’s thigh, Junhui stroking his cheekbone, smiling down at him indulgently.

 

Seokmin nods, turning his head to kiss Junhui’s palm. Between Minghao’s harsh pace and Junhui’s gentle praise, Seokmin feels like he’s being stretched thin. Like he’s holding his breath underwater, lungs screaming at him. Too tight, too loose, like he needs to do something else. Takes Junhui’s thumb into his mouth, scrapes his teeth along the skin. Junhui’s eyes are all black, his dick hard in his sweatpants.

 

He doesn’t protest when Junhui tentatively pushes two fingers into his mouth, sucks on them, bobs his head along the length of them. Behind him, Minghao’s hips stutter, Seokmin groaning around Junhui’s fingers. Gurgles when Junhui’s fingers press down on his tongue. Seokmin needs to do more, wants to do more. Let’s Junhui’s fingers slip out of his with a pop.

 

“Can I suck you off, hyung?” Seokmin asks.

 

It’s like a chain reaction. Minghao fucks into Seokmin so hard he gets pushed onto his chest, Seokmin groaning, his hands grabbing at Junhui’s thighs, Junhui’s eyes glittering with something as he looks at Minghao — no, not looking at Minghao, looking _through_ Minghao. Like Junhui can rattle around his brain and pull out Minghao’s confession to Mingyu, 21 and drunk, where the only scenario in which he saw himself having a threesome was if it involved Junhui. Six months after he’d broken up with Junhui.

 

The problem here is that as much as he loves Seokmin, feels like he might burst from it sometimes, there’s always a part of him that still loves Junhui. Differently, maybe, but it still exists. Could bloom into something else if Minghao tended to it. If Minghao didn’t close his eyes and grit his teeth and tell himself he was greedy for wanting it.

 

“You should ask Minghao if it’s okay,” Junhui says, hands still carding through Seokmin’s thick hair.

 

“Please?” Seokmin looks at him over his shoulder, pouting.

 

Minghao wishes he could sear this image into his brain, or at the very least, replace every memory of any porn he’s watched with Seokmin. Lips pink and swollen, hair messed up, skin gleaming with sweat, clutching at Junhui’s thighs like it’s a lifeline, back arched perfectly to take Minghao’s cock. And well, Minghao’s never been able to say no to him, nodding even as he starts rocking his hips again, punching another moan out of Seokmin. Maybe it’s a good thing that Seokmin’s going to have Junhui’s dick in his mouth because at least his noises will be muffled, despite the idea of the image making Minghao feel like he’s at the end of his rope.

 

“Yeah, okay.”

 

Seokmin smiles up at Junhui and Junhui smiles in return — it’s strange. Seokmin is his boyfriend. Junhui is his ex-boyfriend. Watching them smile at each other, however, has _Minghao_ feeling like the stranger; like there’s some kind of understanding between the two of that Minghao isn’t privy to. Minghao stops fucking Seokmin just to watch the way he takes Junhui into his mouth, how Junhui groans, deep and primal.

 

He waits until Seokmin finds a rhythm, his head bobbing up and down Junhui’s cock, his gut swirling with a strange mix of arousal and jealousy at the fact that Junhui gets to look down and see Seokmin’s lips wrapped around his cock. See Seokmin, used and wrecked, and Minghao’s jealous — jealous and something else, his chest tight with a feeling he doesn’t know how to name.

 

When Minghao finally moves his hips again, it’s to pull out and slam back in, the sharp smack filling the room, accompanied by the sound of Seokmin gagging on Junhui’s cock, Junhui’s head bowed in pleasure. Minghao should be concerned, but around him, Seokmin is vice-tight. Besides, he knows what Seokmin likes. And he likes choking on cock, grinning when his vocal directors yell at him for messing up his voice. A menace, much like Junhui.

 

“Hao’s not playing fair, is he?” Junhui asks,

 

Seokmin makes a muffled noise around Junhui’s cock and Junhui’s grinning.

 

“Be nice to your baby, Minghao,” Junhui says. “He’s being so good for us, isn’t he?”

 

Minghao thinks Seokmin whines, rocking his hips back onto Minghao’s cock. And then Junhui’s gaze turns to Minghao. “You’re going to fuck him good right?”

 

It feels like Junhui’s challenging him, questioning his ability to make Seokmin feel good. Minghao’s never been good at resisting Junhui when he baits Minghao, and he takes it. Swallows it whole. Picks up a harsh rhythm that has the room filled with the obscene sounds of Minghao’s thighs meeting Seokmin’s ass, Seokmin’s noises muffled around Junhui’s cock, still loud as ever.

 

He doesn’t know how long they stay like that, just knows it becomes a feedback loop, Minghao fucking into Seokmin, Seokmin bobbing his head around Junhui’s cock, Junhui babbling nonsense. It’s Junhui who caves in first, to Minghao’s surprise. He pulls out of Seokmin’s mouth, Seokmin whining in disappointment even as Junhui strokes his own cock.

 

“Can I come on your face, Seokminnie?” Junhui asks, voice so low Minghao feels like he’s eavesdropping.

 

Minghao slows down his thrusts, watches as Junhui comes all over Seokmin’s face, hesitant when he presses a kiss to Seokmin’s hair. Minghao pulls Seokmin up against him, back against chest, fucking him with reckless abandon. Seokmin’s moans double in volume when Junhui shuffles forward and strokes his cock. Minghao’s teeth find purchase on the skin of Seokmin’s shoulder, Seokmin coming all over Junhui’s hand when Minghao bites down. It takes more effort than it should to fuck Seokmin through his orgasm, Minghao chasing his own orgasm, just barely out his grasp.

 

“Minghao,” Seokmin pants out. “Minghao come here, come on my face.”

 

Minghao pulls out with a groan, the two of them moving around until Seokmin’s on his knees in front of Minghao. Minghao feels like he’s been stabbed in the stomach and the knife has been twisted several times. _Junhui’s_ come is all over Seokmin’s face, Junhui himself is plastered to Minghao’s back. He swats Minghao’s hand away to stroke his cock, Minghao arching into his grip, both alien and familiar all at once.

 

“Please,” Seokmin pleads. His mouth is open wide, tongue sticking out. “Please Minghao, come on my face?”

 

It should feel disgusting to have one person’s load of drying semen on his face, but Seokmin can’t tear himself away from the sight in front of him. When Minghao comes, he’s leaning back on Junhui’s shoulder, Junhui’s hand wrapped around Minghao’s cock, his other hand wrapped around Minghao’s throat, Junhui coaxing Minghao through his orgasm in Mandarin. Seokmin catches some of Minghao’s come in his mouth, but most of it gets everywhere else.

 

His skin can hate him tomorrow but for now, Seokmin feels so right covered in Minghao-and-Junhui’s come. So right when Minghao drops down next to Seokmin, licking the mix of come off Seokmin’s face. Minghao makes a face at the taste, kissing him and pushing it back into his mouth, sighs out when Seokmin swallows it down. So right about how Junhui disappears and comes back with several damp washcloths, cleaning Seokmin off like Seokmin might break in his hands. So right when he asks Junhui to stay and Junhui agrees, follows Seokmin to the bed and settles down next to him.

 

“You don’t need to get me a birthday present,” Seokmin finally says. “The both of you.”

 

Junhui giggles and glances at Minghao, whose ears are steadily turning redder. Seokmin props himself up on his elbows, an eyebrow raised at Minghao. Next to him, Junhui finally erupts into high cackles of laughter, cheshire cat grin, eyes twinkling with mischief.

 

“Xiao ba definitely had a present in mind for you,” Junhui says in between laughter, clutching onto Seokmin’s shoulder. “Didn’t you, Minghao?”

 

“Don’t call me that,” Minghao says, and he almost sounds petulant, standing at the edge of the bed.

 

Minghao’s looking at the both of them like they’re a mirage, like climbing into the bed is going to make the image of Junhui with his chin hooked over Seokmin’s shoulder disappear. Instead of saying anything, Seokmin holds an arm out, Minghao sighing as he climbs into the bed and into Seokmin’s arms. It takes a little bit more maneuvering to get Minghao between Seokmin and Junhui, and it’s a tight fit, but it’s good. Junhui is a mirror of Seokmin, the both of them propped up on their elbows, free hands linked over Minghao’s abdomen like this is normal for them. There’s something else in the air tonight, all three of them breathing so carefully as to not unsettle it.

 

“Was the threesome supposed to be my birthday present?” Seokmin jokes, Junhui still grinning even as Minghao groans.

 

Minghao has nowhere to hide his face and Seokmin likes it.

 

“Tell him,” Junhui nudges Minghao, grin petering out into a smile so full of raw affection it makes Seokmin teeth hurt from how sweet it is.

 

Minghao squeezes his eyes shut, his blush spreading from his ears to his cheeks and Seokmin is enjoying this _so_ much more than he should.

 

“I wanted to learn how to tie you up because Soonyoung said you might like that and have your pictures taken,” Minghao finally gets the words out.

 

It’s Seokmin’s turn to blush furiously and be on the receiving end of Junhui’s grin, choking on his words. He was drunk when he told Soonyoung that and he’s pretty sure Soonyoung was equally plastered so he’s not quite sure how Soonyoung _still_ remembers that. Seokmin reaches across Minghao to tickle Junhui’s side.

 

“And _I_ know how to tie people up,” Junhui gloats.

 

“Group game my ass.”

 

Junhui taps a finger against his lips, humming. “We did group game your ass.”

 

Seokmin’s sure that the usual reaction to having an unintended threesome with his boyfriend and said boyfriend’s ex is _not_ elation. But he is. And there’s another feeling taking root in his stomach, watching Minghao’s gaze go back and forth between him and Junhui, in the way he’s so tense between them. The thing about Minghao is that he can never hide his love. He tries to, but it spills out of him regardless, not in words, no, but in actions. And like this, Minghao’s gaze can’t hide how much he wants to touch Junhui. Seokmin supposes he should feel touched that Minghao’s holding back on account of him being there but all it really does is make him feel restless.

 

“You can kiss him, you know,” Seokmin says gently.

 

Minghao gapes, his eyes flitting between Seokmin’s face and Junhui’s face like Seokmin didn’t just say that, swallowing around the lump in his throat. What he _wants_ to do is kiss Junhui then kiss Seokmin and maybe watch them kiss each other. What he _should_ do is ask Junhui to leave and then assure Seokmin Minghao doesn’t want more from him, has everything he could possibly want with Seokmin.

 

But he’s greedy. Yearns. Doesn’t know what to do with how much he truly believes he could get away with having Seokmin _and_ Junhui and everything in between. _Wants_ so much that the only thing grounding him is the pain of his nails digging into his palms. Junhui’s looking at him with unbridled curiosity, head tilted to the side and Seokmin’s looking at him with fond exasperation, fingers gentle in Minghao’s hair.

 

“You can,” Seokmin says, his voice gentle, reassuring. “I want you to.”

 

Seokmin’s smiling at him and Minghao nods shakily, turning to a smiling Junhui.

 

“It’s okay,” Junhui says. And Minghao trusts Junhui with everything, his body, his heart, his soul, his life, Seokmin.

 

Junhui meets him at the halfway point, the skin where Junhui’s fingers are intertwined with Seokmin’s over his hip feels like his Achilles heel, anchoring his soul to his body. Junhui’s lips are chapped against his, kisses Minghao like they never stopped kissing. Junhui was _supposed_ to be out of his system but he can’t deny it’s electrifying to have Junhui’s mouth move against his, the way Seokmin’s lips are burning against the nape of his neck.

 

As Junhui’s teeth nick his lower lip, licking into Minghao’s mouth, he’s hit with the realization that he’s been dating Seokmin for as long as he’d dated Junhui. He breaks the kiss with a soft sound when Seokmin’s teeth close around the side of his neck, smiling apologetically when he catches Minghao’s gaze. Then Junhui does the unexpected, grips Seokmin’s chin and pulls him into a kiss. It’s messy, lacks familiarity, more hunger compared to how Junhui had kissed Minghao.

 

Caught in between them, Minghao feels like he’s being sucker punched — a star collapsing in on itself. Like there’s a blackhole in his chest where his heart should be, and all the breath is being sucked out of him. Watching Junhui kiss Seokmin is simultaneously better and worse compared to watching Seokmin suck Junhui’s dick.

 

It’s strange. Like realizing you need new glasses and getting them, only to put them on and see everything you’re familiar with showing up in high relief. Minghao feels like a balloon cut free from its string when Seokmin pulls away from the kiss with a smile on his face, leaning in again to peck Junhui again. For a single moment, Minghao was afraid of Seokmin hating it, no, afraid of hating _Junhui._ He’s not sure why because they’d gotten along well the entire time they’ve been dating but that is the precarity in their situation.

 

It’s not every day your boyfriend sucks your ex’s dick _and_ tells you you can kiss him _and_ lets said ex kiss him too.

 

“We’ll talk about this in the morning,” Seokmin says, kissing Minghao’s cheek. “Rest.”

 

“I’ll make _bing_ in the morning,” Junhui says chirpily and the last glance Minghao has of Junhui before he turns the light out is his toothy grin.

 

They fit together just well, Junhui’s broader frame tucked around Minghao’s, Seokmin making himself as small as possible to tuck himself under Minghao’s chin, against his chest. So close together that if you shot a gun, the bullet would go through all three of them.

 

“It’ll be okay,” he hears Junhui say, just as he’s about to fall asleep. “I’ll take care of you. The both of you.”

 

Minghao feels Junhui’s lips brush against the nape of his neck, so gently it might as well have been his own hair tickling it.

 

The intrinsic truth is undeniable. The moon reflects the light of the sun. The moon is tied to the earth’s gravity. Together, they form a system.

**Author's Note:**

> i am just a cat looking for pats~ please leave comments if you enjoyed reading this fic i cannot stress how much it motivates me to keep writing T____T. i have a [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/lilting) now if you are interested in saying hi there ouo (i had to remake bcus my old twtr acc got suspended T___T come say hi!) and I recently made a [public twt](https://twitter.com/junseokhao) as well!


End file.
